


An Impossible Decision

by MysticalShizz



Category: Black Clover - Tabata Yuki (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fix-It, Fluff, Noelle is adopted, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:20:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29161056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysticalShizz/pseuds/MysticalShizz
Summary: Mereoleona’s head pops into view, first taking in you, then turning to observe the small girl perched on your hip. Her look of confusion slowly morphs into disbelief, then into incredulity.“Did … Darling. Did you steal the Silva’s youngest child?”Fix-It fic where Mereoleona and spouse reader adopt Noelle.
Relationships: Mereoleona Vermillion & Reader, Mereoleona Vermillion/Reader
Comments: 13
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

It was a spur of the moment decision. 

Less than an hour inside the Silva residence, you find yourself in the office that used to belong to Acier Silva, now occupied by her husband, staring at each other in heavy silence. You knew it was an impossible request, but the way he appeared to consider it gave you a spark of hope. 

“Your eldest children hate her. They don’t understand that it isn’t her fault. If you let this fester, she may grow to hate-”, the Silva patriarch silences you with a raised hand. For a moment he looks exactly as he did five years ago, stricken with grief, the picture of agony. The mask is back before you can blink, and he looks directly at you. 

“So you would take my child from me?” His tone is accusing, almost bitter. 

With a deep breath, you try to speak calmly, “We would raise her in an environment where she isn’t stunted by the hatred of her own siblings. She will know of her noble nature and will grow into a powerful woman.” 

The two of you lapse back into silence. It’s impossible to tell what he is thinking, but your thoughts are a chain of pleads, flickering over the memories of the child, Noelle, in tears. 

“And your spouse? She’s not known for her tenderness.” While you’re aware of the opinions of nobles toward your marriage, you can’t help the flare of anger that courses through you. It takes you a moment to calm down, you know that this is a sensitive time and anger will not help you. He’s right, Mereoleona isn’t known for being gentle, but after years of marriage you know her better than anyone.

The smile you give him is genuine, full of all the love you can muster thinking of your wife, “Perhaps not, but she’s always been kind to me. I would have no qualms about ending our marriage should she treat Noelle with any animosity,” the ‘like your children already do’ is left unsaid. “However, even though Mereoleona is a little rough around the edges, she admired Acier and I would bet my life that she would never consider harming her daughter.” You can almost see all of the arguments falling apart in his head. If Mereoleona was the only reason to keep the two of you from adopting Noelle, then your testimony throws water on the fire before it can even take. 

He shuts his eyes, leans his head back. His contemplation gives you time to panic. You had no way to warn Mereoleona. The cottage has a spare bedroom but it’s all bare bones. When was the last time you had gone for groceries? Noelle is royalty, how will she adapt to her new home? Your spiral is short lived, abruptly cut off with the loud sigh of the man across from you. It’s his slight nod that floods pure joy though your system. Before you know it, you’re on your feet, a wide smile stretching across your face. The Silva patriarch holds up one finger, stopping your little celebration.

“You will receive paperwork designating the two of you as her guardians until she takes the Magic Knights exam. Then it will be her choice. She will remain a Silva until she is old enough to make her own decisions. The paperwork we send will outline visitation, noble events, and so on. If that is acceptable, you may take her when you leave.” He barely finishes his sentence as you clap his right hand in yours, shaking it as best as you can to seal your verbal deal. 

He almost looks amused as you begin to ramble, asking about suitcases and current diet and anything we should know about potty training or nightmares or allergies. Her father tries his best to keep up with your overactive mind, but eventually defers you to the maids who had been taking care of her. When all of your questions have been answered, you ask where you can find your new ward, following the directions of the gaggle of maids. 

It’s cloudy and cold out, so she wouldn’t be outside hiding in the garden. You check the library first, comb through the stocks looking for a small head of silver hair. When the library turns out to be empty, you head toward her room, checking window sills as you walk. The luggage outside of the room clues you into which room belongs to Noelle; it’s not as much as you were expecting, only two suitcases sit outside of the door. Through the door you hear crying, sniffles and sobs that throw an axe through your chest. 

Raising your hand to the door, you knock gently. The crying stops, you hear a few sniffles as the occupant gets close to the door. When the door opens, you can see Noelle’s small face peeking up at you. She tries to pull herself together, channeling what you assume to be the haughty energy that her siblings are known for, but you only smile at her, kneeling down to her height to look her in the face, “Do you mind if I come in?” 

She stares at you, bottom lip trembling slightly. She slowly shakes her head, opening the door enough to let you slip in, before quickly closing the door behind you. Noelle leads you to her bed, where she sits tentatively on the edge, staring down at her feet. You choose to sit on the floor directly in front of her, crossing your legs to appear more comfortable. 

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, before, with a wobbly voice, Noelle asks, “Are they sending me away?” She looks to be seconds away from crying again. 

“Not sending you away,” you start, trying to sound as honest as possible. “Do you know my wife?”

She looks at you with curiosity, “Lady Mereoleona?” When you nod in response, her demeanor turns more excited than upset.

“Well, we want you to live with us. You can come back here whenever you want to but -”, you’re cut off when Noelle flings herself from the bed into your lap. Small sobs wracked her body, but you hope that they’re not sad tears. Goodness, you just want her to be happy. She leans back, gives you a toothy grin, before dashing out the room to drag the two suitcases in with her. Laughing, all of the tension leeches from your body as you get up to help her. 

Packing doesn’t take long, the two of you working efficiently through the items in her room as you tell her about the cottage. The cottage is in the forests north of the capital, still in the Noble realm but just barely. You speak about the garden out front, the wildflowers than welcome in spring, the cats that laze about in the summer. You tell her about the wood stove that keeps the chill away in the winter, the multitude of blankets that never really get put away, and of the lake that is within walking distance. Noelle seems enraptured, asking more and more questions as you finish packing. It’s not hard work to satiate her curiosity, you make sure to keep her attention as you walk out of the residence, away from her siblings and the ghosts of the past. 

Getting home is interesting, but Noelle is smart and holds onto the broom while you juggle her luggage and try to steer. Noelle finds your struggle terribly funny, and you can’t find it in your heart to be annoyed. Within the hour you’re landing, both of you are a little damp from the moisture in the air, but both have smiles on your faces. There is smoke coming from the chimney on the cottage, and with a small wince at the surprise you’re about to drop on your wife, you lead Noelle toward the door. 

Opening the door, the two of you are hit with a rush of warmth and the sound of Mereoleona doing … something in the kitchen. Putting down Noelle’s suitcases, the two of you remove your shoes in the doorway. Calling out to your wife, you hear her grunt in acknowledgement, but the sound of activity in the kitchen doesn’t even falter. Noelle’s eyes are wide, taking in everything about her new home. After entering, there’s an open space before the hallway back to the rooms starts; the kitchen is to the left of this space, and a couch facing the window is on the right. The wooden floor of the entryway is chilly, so you scoop Noelle up and begin to head to the kitchen. 

“How are the Silva’s? Still pompous as usual?” Mereoleona calls, and you can’t help but shoot a worried look down at Noelle, who is too occupied trying to repeat the word ‘pompous’. 

With a quick breath, you respond, “Actually I have some news. Uh, promise you won’t be mad first?” With that, all noise in the kitchen stops. From just outside the kitchen, you can hear something bubbling on the stove. Mereoleona’s head pops into view, first taking in you, then turning to observe the small girl perched on your hip. Her look of confusion slowly morphs into disbelief, then into incredulity. 

“Did … Darling. Did you steal the Silva’s youngest child?” Your mouth gapes at her accusation. You sputter for a second, caught off guard that she thinks you would do something like that.

Turning to look at Noelle, you gently set her down, “How about you go explore the house? Your room will be the one on the right at the end of the hallway.” She nods and darts off, probably sensing the confrontation about to take place. Looking back at your wife, she’s taken to leaning against the doorframe, eyes full of fondness as she watches Noelle look around. Stalking forward, you grab her wrist on your way into the kitchen, making a beeline to turn off the burner that’s on full-flame, under a pot that looks ready to boil over. When you turn back to Mereoleona, she’s perched on the table looking far too happy. With a pout, you belatedly correct her, “I didn’t steal Noelle. I convinced her father to make us her guardians.” The amused look is wiped off of Mereoleona’s face, replaced with shock. She pushes off of the table, and crowds you against the counter. Her hands are gentle and warm as they cup your face, bringing you forehead to forehead and looking directly into your eyes. She doesn’t say anything, but nuzzles her nose to yours when you start to pull away. 

“I just, you’ve seen the way her siblings treat her! And her father does nothing to stop it! Her mother would hate the way they’re treating her, I couldn’t just leave her there.” Your words are quieter than you would like, but Mereoleona just hums in agreement. One of her hands moves to wrap around your back, pulling you as close to her as you can get. From your place pressed against her chest, you can feel her heart beating strong and steady. It’s calming, always has been.

It’s taken the two of you some time to get like this. To trust each other so wholeheartedly that vulnerability isn’t scary. You’ve come far from the two rowdy teenagers, always starting fights and running in headfirst. You’ve evolved together, gotten stronger together, grown together. It’s hard to imagine life now without her, but as long as you have a say there will never be a life without her. 

“If we had known it would be like this, I would’ve suggested it years ago.” It’s rare to hear her this quiet, you’re so used to the loud and brash personality that she uses to face the world. All frustration is gone as you tilt your head up to press a kiss on the underside of her jaw. She makes a wounded noise, tilting her head down to try and kiss you properly. It’s with a giggle that you push her away, toward the door of the kitchen where Noelle is standing with big eyes and playing with her fingers. 

“We have her now, that’s all that matters.” You kneel down, opening your arms for Noelle. Hefting her onto your hip, you nod your head toward the luggage still in the entryway, then look with puppy eyes at Mereoleona. A bark of laughter escapes her, and she moves to pick up the bags as you look down at Noelle, “Let’s get you all unpacked and make a list of things we need to get, yeah?” 

The two of you race down the hall, with ‘zoom!’ and ‘swoosh!’ noises as you take the corner into Noelle’s new room, her giggling shaking her whole body as you throw her onto her bed. The bed and night table are the only two things in the room, but the closet is big enough to house all of her clothing. You could probably find a table and mirror for her later, and voice the idea to Mereoleona. Moving to open the curtain, the late afternoon light gives the room an orange tint. 

Mereoleona and Noelle are already on the ground, taking clothes out of the suitcases and organizing them into little piles. As you sit down to help, you watch Noelle for just a moment, she’s too focused on folding her shirts to notice. Your gaze is caught by Mereoleona, who grins at you, little fang poking through her lips. 

Maybe everything will be alright. The three of you will be just fine.


	2. Chapter one, Cont.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little continuation of chapter one.

Later that night, you and Mereoleona are awoken by the sound of shuffling in the hallway. 

You had only been in bed for about an hour, crashing after making sure Noelle was tucked in and warm in her own bed. Despite her obvious exhaustion, her eyes darted between the walls, something akin to panic taking over. Her fears were silenced when you crawled next to her, running a soft hand through her hair and reminding her that you were right across the hall and that both you and your wife were light sleepers. Noelle didn’t need to know that both Mereoleona and yourself had fought on battlefields and become accustomed to waking at a moments notice. All she needed to know was that you would be there for her when she needed you. 

Mereoleona was a wild sleeper, limbs thrown across the bed and hair strewn across the pillows. An hour ago, the two of you had laid down after your nightly routine and twined your limbs together. You had dozed with your nose in the crook of her neck and her nails lightly scratching your back. Staring at her from the other side of the mattress, the two of you burst into giggles, slowly sitting up and fixing the blankets to be more even. However, the two of you were quickly snapped out of the moment by a quiet knock on your door, which was already ajar. 

Leaning toward the door, you call out, “Noelle? Is that you? Are you okay?” Her small face pops through the crack in the door, eyes flashing between both of you. Noelle takes a few steps into the room, before flushing and stammering her way through an apology. She turns and makes to run out of the room, but Mereoleona is faster. Mereoleona scoops her up, holding her up by her armpits so that they can face each other. The two of them seem to have a quiet conversation before your wife turns and returns to bed, Noelle carried along. 

Noelle is set in the middle of the bed, and you reach out to hold her. With your arms wrapped around her, she lays her small head on your sternum; both of you get cocooned by Mereoleona’s arms when she lays down as well. 

When Mereoleona begins to hum, her voice is gravelly and cracks in a couple places. You know that she isn’t used to this, and you would tease her about it if not for the obvious comfort it gave Noelle. You don’t recognize the tune, but the way Noelle relaxes in your embrace tells you that she knows it. This embrace won’t last, not with the chaos of Mereoleona sleeping habits, but for now it’s nice to be close, to know that, right now, nothing exists in the world that could harm the child in your arms. 

It’s that thought that allows you to drift, to let the warmth of your wife’s arms lull you to sleep, comforted by the soft breath of Noelle against your chest. 

Dawn arrives far too quickly. It feels like you had just shut your eyes when the first light of the day makes it through the window above your head. As you slowly come to consciousness, the first thing you register is the small knee in your stomach. The blankets are weighing heavy on your feet, probably kicked off during the night because of the excess of heat Mereoleona gives off. There is a slight chill tickling at your nose; if you had the willpower to open your eyes and look out the window, you would probably see frost covering the ground. This winter had been fairly mild, only a handful of snowfall events this year. 

Turning onto your side and removing the knee from your stomach, you can hear Mereoleona puttering around the bathroom. Finally opening your eyes, you take in Noelle, starfished across the mattress with her head half under Mereoleona’s pillow. It takes monumental effort to hold in your laughter, and you channel that energy to slide out of bed as quietly as possible. Once out of bed, you slide the covers back over Noelle, before tiptoeing into the hall and toward your wife.

When you enter the bathroom, she doesn’t turn to look at you, just tosses her brush toward you and trusts that you’ll catch it. Her voice is still heavy with sleep when she grumbles, “Took you long enough to wake up.” You huff a laugh, her pout is almost audible. Navigating around her, you slide up onto the counter in front of her, bringing a hand up to playfully pinch her nose. 

“Good morning to you, too, I guess.” You twist your face into the goofiest expression you can muster this early in the morning, before grabbing her shoulder to twist her 180 degrees. Starting at the bottom of her hair, you work your way up. Carefully detangling and working through knots. This little ritual happened every morning when Mereoleona was home, brushing her hair before working through a morning skincare routine. 

With all of her hair brushed through, you begin to braid the flyaways on the left side of her head, then on the right. Those braids are then pulled back into a ponytail held high at the back of her head. Spinning her back around to face you, you use your fingernails to drag across the top of her scalp, making sure all of her hair was out of her face. Mereoleona’s eyes are closed, and her mouth is stretched into a goofy little grin. Leaning forward to press a kiss against her mouth, you quickly twist back to grab the jar of calendula infused water. Your chin is grabbed by Mereoleona’s hand, which turns you back so she can press little kisses across your face. 

It tickles, and before you know it she’s grabbing the jar out of your hands and pretending like nothing happened. When she catches the affronted look on your face, she keels over with her attempts at silencing her laughter, which you both know is loud enough to carry through the cottage. Snatching back the jar, you open it and retrieve the hand towel that it was sitting on. Mereoleona braces her arms on either side of your body when you dampen the cloth in the water, before you gently hold her chin so you can wash her face. When she goes to wash your face, she slides a hand to hold the back of your neck, rubbing her thumb into the muscle there. 

You recap the jar, and replace it with the small vial of rose oil that is still on the counter behind you. Dabbing some out onto your fingers, you slowly work the oil onto her face; rubbing small circles into her cheekbones, down the line of her nose, and up her jawline. You make sure to spread a thin coat across her lips, and massage the oil across her hairline. And then you switch. Her hands are calloused from years in the wilderness, but they’re so familiar and warm. 

As she gently massages your face, you quietly murmur the plans for the day. See if there is anything Noelle needs, then visit the market for meal ingredients (Mereoleona mentions that you’re also running low on carrier oil for tinctures). Mereoleona wants to train, you gently remind her to cut more firewood when she’s done. The two of you agree to head to the lake in the afternoon to wash, and you might as well familiarize Noelle with the surrounding area. 

Mereoleona reaches behind you once more to retrieve a stick of licorice root, which she breaks in half. Popping the end into your mouth, the two of you start to hear movement in the bedroom. You can hear as Noelle gets up, then trails down to the bathroom to peek in at the two of you. She enters, and Mereoleona helps her up onto the counter beside you. Twisting to face the child, you pass the jar or cleanser and vial of oil over to your wife, before taking the brush back up. The two of you work in relative silence, as Noelle tells you both about her dreams, prompted by the questions when she starts to trail off. 

You could get used to this, you think. You break your root in half and watch Noelle’s face scrunch up as she tries it. She doesn’t spit it out, though, so that’s a start. With a jolt, you turn back to Mereoleona, “What were you doing yesterday when we got back?” 

Her bark of laughter rings in your ears for a second, before she explains that she was making soup. Thinking back to the dark sludge that was bubbling away in the pot, you shake your head in disbelief. If anything, your reaction makes her laugh harder. Tilting your head to Noelle, you whisper conspiratorially, “Don’t trust anything she cooks, not all experiments are successful.”. 

Faster than you can blink, you’re on the floor, forced into a wrestling match with your beloved. Over the sounds of your scuffling, you can hear Noelle laughing up on the counter. It almost distracts you from the headlock Mereoleona was starting to put you in, and you twist to try and get her in your guard. The fight doesn’t last more than five minutes, broken up when you wrap your limbs around her body as tightly as you can. Pressing a hand into your back to keep you steady, Mereoleona stands up. 

“They don’t know what they’re talking about, I’m an excellent cook.” She grumbles to Noelle, whose happy expression melts off so she can nod seriously at your wife. Hopping down from the counter, Noelle takes Mereoleona’s free hand, and the three of you make your way out of the bathroom. From your place attached to her front, with your head nestled in her neck, you can feel vibrations of her throat as she boasts about her cooking prowess. You let her continue, tuning her out to begin planning the meals of the day. What were you going to do with your two nobles who couldn’t cook? Shaking your head slightly, Mereoleona tilted her head to smack a fat kiss on your forehead. 

Despite your little outraged noise, she continued to press wet kisses on your face, until you unlocked your arms from her neck, and removed your legs from her waist to stand on your own. The ground was cold, you realize belatedly, whining in discomfort. Your wife doesn’t help, cackling at you and fondly calling you a weak little baby. Snatching Noelle from her, you ignore your wife, instead choosing to question your ward on her favorite foods, her thoughts on today’s schedule, anything you can think of to be petty toward your beloved. The two of you make your way into the kitchen, trailed by Mereoleona. 

This is nice, you think. Mornings like this are the definition of perfect. As you prepare to make breakfast, pushing your beloved out of the way occasionally, propping Noelle up on the counter so she can watch, you’re happy. You could get used to mornings like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!   
> I love hearing yalls feedback 💕


	3. First Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader's first meeting with Mereoleona, and the start of something soft.

The first time you met Mereoleona Vermillion, you were ten years old and the encounter quickly turned into a fight. 

Your mother had been horrified when word reached her, her child against a noble? But when you returned, full of gushing praise for the fiery haired girl who hadn’t backed down from your taunts, she couldn’t be too mad at you. She had most certainly known something that you didn’t; why you couldn’t stop thinking about the eldest Vermillion child, why this one encounter stuck with you over the multitude of fights you had been in, why you spent your free time seeking her out (despite living in two separate realms). 

While you never claimed to be smart, your mother would probably label you as the densest child in the Clover Kingdom for how long it took you to realize that you were wholeheartedly, head over heels, completely in love with Mereoleona Vermillion. 

Unfortunately, it would take ten years to see her next, this time outside of your home village in the Common Realm. 

She came to you while you’re out collecting herbs. In the dead of summer, you practically had to bribe yourself out the door. The promise of resting tomorrow being the only thing giving you the strength to brave the hot, humid, muggy weather. The dirt beneath your fingers is a small reprieve, the comfort you find in locating each plant distracts you from the sun beating down on your head; as you carefully snap off branches or unearth them by the root, everything around you fades to a buzz in the back of your head.

It takes a moment for you to realize you’re not alone. Most of the townspeople only venture this far out into the forest on the solstices, but rarely ever do they come so far off the path. You take a second, collecting yourself to turn around and joke with whichever familiar townsperson has caught you covered in dirt, on your hands and knees, in front of a patch of herbs. All the words die on your tongue as you turn around, and are met by a face you hadn’t seen in ages. 

While her face had lost much of the roundness of childhood, you would never forget those eyes. Mereoleona looks down at you, the confusion evident on her face. She doesn’t say anything, just squats beside you, her movement bringing a wave of hot air that makes you dizzy. 

“What are we looking for?” She doesn’t look at you as she speaks, just keenly observes which plants you have uprooted beside you, idly sticking her fingers into the dirt beside yours. You gape at her, leaning back on your heels to just stare at her. Doesn’t she remember you? What is she doing out here? 

It takes a physical shake of your head to stop going down the rabbit hole, and you’re reminded that she asked you a question, “I’m picking horseweed. Just the flower for now,” pointing a finger beside you, you continue, “I just finished collecting rosemary. Did you want to help?” 

With help, you swiftly collect the horseweed you’ve needed, before moving deeper into the forest in the vague direction of the lavender crop that just began its second bloom. As you harvest, you keep up a steady stream of information: what you’re collecting, what it is used for, the plight of the townspeople that has your stock running low. Mereoleona is surprisingly silent, allowing you to ramble, and prompting you occasionally by pointing out a plant or waving an herb in your face. It’s a stark difference from the girl you encountered a decade ago, though she still has that wild energy about her. 

“Why do you use herbs instead of defaulting to magic healers?” It’s the first question she’s verbally asked in a while. You’re busy trimming the lavender, but the question makes you stop in your tracks. 

You fish your grimoire out from the bottom of the basket of herbs, “I am a magic healer. I use plant recovery magic. My mother taught me herbalism when I was young, so I guess it makes sense that my magic presented this way. I use herbs as a support to my magic.” She takes your grimoire when you offer it, grunting in response to your explanation while flipping through the pages. 

You watch as Mereoleona collects the herbs you’ve harvested, places them into the basket, and sets it aside. You’re given a split second to react as your grimoire is gently tossed back at you, and then a fist is sailing through the air toward you. 

Leaping back, you’re sure your face displays the incredulity you feel, but Mereoloena just grins at you in a way that is so reminiscent of the child you fought a decade prior. Shaking your head, you drop down into a fighting stance, adrenaline already building. 

Despite your magic being most suited to offense and support, you’ve always been good at hand-to-hand combat. As the two of you trade blows, the excitement is palpable. She has to remember you. While Mereoleona is using her magic against you, the only time you use yours is to heal. She knows this, but doesn’t underestimate you like others tend to do. She hits with her whole strength, and you do the same; the two of you are still so young, still rough around the edges, and have yet to fully come into your magic.

There’s a freedom you find in fighting, with everything happening so fast, it’s like you can breathe fully. You’re sure the unhinged grin you see on Mereoleona’s face is mirrored on yours, as the two of you continue to trade blows, mindful of the herb basket and plot to your left. The exchange doesn’t last long, the day is still unbearably hot and it’s been a while since you’ve been challenged like this. 

Yielding, you flop onto your back. The forest floor is cool, and you dig your fingers into the dirt to absorb the chill. The tree canopy blocks out most of the direct sunlight, you groan at the thought of heading back into the sunlight. Mereoleona’s laugh echoes through the forest, loud and uninhibited, before she flops beside you. You can feel the heat radiating from her, and dig the fingers of your right hand deeper into the dirt to compensate. 

“What brings you here, anyway?” Your voice is barely audible over the sound of your racing heart and the life of the forest. You feel Mereoleona wriggling around beside you, and you jolt as her left hand pinky taps the pinky on your right hand. Lifting your pinky a bit, the two of you tangle your little fingers together. It sends another burst of adrenaline through your system, as the crush from your childhood rears its head. Even though your heart races, you calm your breathing and wait for her answer. 

Her chuckle isn’t as loud this time, but with her proximity, sends a chill through you. Twisting to face you, she tightens the grip around your little finger, “Your magic is powerful, you’ve changed since we were children.” 

In a movement quicker than should be expected in this weather, you whip to face her, yanking your joined hands toward yourself, and throwing Mereoleona off balance, “You remembered? And you didn’t say anything?” Even though you’re staring down at her, she still smiles up at you, unbothered. Gaping down at her, you release her hand, and swing a leg to straddle her. It takes all of your restraint not to wring her neck as she continues to stare at you, grin still on her face. Instead you sit your full weight onto her stomach, taking a moment to ask yourself how the day ended up like this. 

Mereoleona’s small grunt is the only warning you get before the world is spinning, and you’re back on the forest floor. Looking up at her, you’re struck by how gorgeous she is. 

Large chunks of hair have come free from her hair tie, framing her face. While the forest is blocking the sunlight, the edges of her hair still glow with the gold of the sun. She has freckles, prominent on skin tanned by the summer, and you can’t help but reach a hand up to carefully brush a thumb across her cheekbone. She’s still grinning, her prominent fang capturing your gaze. You know that it’s impossible to hide the fondness in your eyes, but she doesn’t shy away from it, and doesn't appear repulsed by it. 

Mereoleona lets you stare, before, for the second time that day, the two of you begin to fight. Grappling on the cool forest floor, this time without the ferocity of your first fight. It’s over almost as quick as it started, using your hips, you throw your whole weight into getting on top of Mereoleona. From there, you collapse. Both of your bodies shake with the force of Mereoleona’s laughter, but you can’t be bothered to move. The two of you lay there, practically glued together with sweat. 

From the looks of it, dusk is quickly approaching when Mereoleona begins to move. With an arm wrapped around your waist, she sits up, and uses her free arm to stand up. You almost feel bad for making her carry you, but when you try to wiggle out of her arms, she growls down at you in warning. With a snort, you hold your hands out in a placating gesture, before wrapping your arms and legs around her. Stopping to pick up the herb basket, she turns and heads in the general direction of the village.

You’d heard a lot about Mereoleona over the years. How she refused to become a Royal Knight, how she spends all of her time in the wild to become stronger, that she’s brash and loud and violent. Mereoleona is wild, untamable, reminiscent of the forest where you find solace. Something about her presence brings you comfort. 

You know the looks you’re both getting as she tracks through the village, guided by your whispered directions. None of them matter, as you focus on the warmth of her hand on your lower back, it’s enough to let you drift off. Even when you hear the polite greeting she gives your mother, all you can think about are the years you spent without her. 

Of course, you will let her go. You don’t want to tame Mereoleona, you don’t want her to change. All you want is to be the home that she returns to; you tell her this, as she’s leaving after dinner. For a moment, you’re unsure if you’ve done the right thing; what if this is the last time you see her? What if she doesn’t want to come back? But then, a warm hand is grasping the back of your neck and yanking you forward. Your heads collide painfully, but she holds you there, and in the quietest voice you’ve heard from her, tells you that she will come back. 

She comes back. Visits your mothers house and stays even when you’re not there, keeping your mother company and telling her stories of wild beasts and mana. She stays through the winter months, and helps you find a cottage just a little ways away from your village, in the woods that you’ve known your whole life. Mereoleona comes back. After all, the two of you have created a life together. When she leaves, you know that she will return to you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so scared of butchering Mereoleona's character for the sake of my soft fantasies, so I hope this does her some justice & you enjoyed it!

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Twitter! @MysticalShizz
> 
> I'm not sure if I want to make this into a little series, let me know what you think!


End file.
